


Alien Nation

by micehell



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Drama, Ficlet, M/M, post-The Return Part 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-03
Updated: 2007-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-12 04:11:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micehell/pseuds/micehell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was like a war lost</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alien Nation

John woke up from the dream hard -- out of breath, his heartbeat drumming in his ear, a celebratory _We have free access to junk food again!_ Cheetoh stuck to his cheek as he pressed his face into the floor, trying to orient himself to an unsure horizon. He woke up hard, his dick already in his hand, snatching at blurring memories: of thrusting up, past the resistance of water and depth, yearning for a surface, a place, that was almost, almost in reach.

He woke up to Rodney's eyes watching him across the detritus lying in drifts along the motel room floor. It was like a battlefield -- empty beer bottles, half-eaten pizza slices, torn, crumpled bags of chips like the bodies of the fallen, remnants of the good time they'd tried to have. It was like a war lost, Rodney's stare dream-haunted as his large, blunt fingers mapped out the flesh of his own dick. It was like a mirror, and John couldn't help but close his eyes against it.

Because John had woken up on Earth, and just like every other day he'd had to do that, the loss took his breath away. All he could do was take the comfort in his hand, take the comfort in hearing Rodney's breath, the sounds of his flesh, echoing against the ghosts around them, the phantom pain of a city that was no longer there.

It was only afterwards, when Rodney crawled over to him, bottles and bags shoved aside until he was lying next to John, clutching him as if to keep him from disappearing, too, that John realized that the feeling of alienation had faded. It wasn't his room, wasn't his city, wasn't even his damn planet anymore, but the smell of musk and Rodney were familiar, the arms around him warm and solid, bridging the holes riddled through him.

Rodney wasn't able to be silent for long, loss spilling out of him. He said, we'll never see her again. He said, it'll never be the same. He said… but John laid his fingers against the words he couldn't be optimistic enough to refute, and for a moment they didn't say anything at all, just holding on. There would be bruises in the morning, but neither of them cared.

They watched the light slowly grow, a sun familiar and alien creeping in by small degrees, and John listened as Rodney talked about his projects, his assistants, the strange spot on his left pinky toe that he was sure was cancer, but that the doctor said was just a fungus. The words didn't mean anything, just something to be said and listened to, another connection between them. They watched until the creeping light reached their feet, Sleeping Beauty's kiss, and the night was gone, another victim in the carnage around them.

John made Rodney help him clean up, ignoring the complaint that that was what maid service was for. He knew that those words didn't mean anything, either, just habit and expectation. Eventually there was nothing left to do but go, because it was morning, it was Earth, and there were rules here that Atlantis never cared about. So they packed away the night, and put on the faces they used to wear when this was home.

/this


End file.
